


What Can I Give Him (Give My Heart)

by twoohugs



Series: Advent Calendar 2019 [3]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:00:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21592672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoohugs/pseuds/twoohugs
Summary: Arthur is good at making coffee. Eames can’t drink coffee.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Series: Advent Calendar 2019 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1556131
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	1. Arthur

**Author's Note:**

> Title from In the Bleak Midwinter.

Arthur likes his shop. People seem to constantly be under the impression that it is merely the result of some kind of quarter-life crisis, but Arthur has never been more sure about any of his decisions. Which doesn’t mean much, given how he signed up for an accounting degree he absolutely hated (even though he graduated Summa Cum Laude because he is a smart, hard-working student that fueled himself with coffee and spite).

Point is, Arthur likes his shop. He likes how the place smells great any time of the year, whether it’s the default aroma of coffee, the sweet, buttery smell when he makes bread, or the spicy smell of seasonal spices when fall arrives.

He also loves his work, seeing how people light up at the first sip of the drinks he makes, students sinking into his armchairs with wistful sighs, businessmen loosening their ties and moaning at the taste of their pieces of brownies. What he enjoys most, however, is getting to know the regulars who come again and again for _his_ coffee, to observe them and make drinks personalized for them, and see how their eyes sparkle with wonder when they realize what Arthur has created just for them.

Which is why he is determined to make something just perfect for Eames for the winter.

Eames is the most annoying customer he has ever served at _Penrose_ , and he also happens to be the best person Arthur has ever met in his entire life. He is a walking paradox, all six-feet of bulging muscles and tattoos, with the most sultry British accent to ever British, owns a motorcycle that rumbles louder than most trucks, coos at stray kittens and feed them scraps, claims he has the alcohol tolerance of Thor, but cannot stomach coffee.

And Arthur has the most disgustingly huge crush on him. At first, he was just determined to keep making new drinks for Eames because he simply could not have a customer that can’t appreciate his concoctions, but now it’s become something much more personal and sappy. Eames deserves nice drinks. Arthur is going to keep making him nice drinks.

The problem is, while Eames always offer praises and appreciative hums at the drinks Arthur makes him, there was never that mind-blown wow-ness to his reaction that everyone gives at one point. (If they don’t, Arthur makes something new again and again until he gets it right and gets The Reaction.) And it has been over nine months since the first time Eames stepped in his cafe.

Arthur does not give up. He _will_ get it right.

“Try this.” Arthur pushes a cup across the counter.

“Hmm.” Eames hums, closing his eyes to savour the taste. “Peppermint?”

Arthur suppresses a sigh. It’s obvious that Eames genuinely likes the drink, and he should be used to the disappointment of not getting The Reaction by now.

“You can’t have the peppermint mocha, so I skipped the coffee and made peppermint cocoa.” He explains.

“That is very considerate of you, darling.” Eames smiles warmly at him and takes another sip. “You know I’d never ask you to make a non-coffee version just for me.”

“Just because you can’t drink coffee doesn’t mean you don’t deserve festive drinks.” Arthur frowns. Some coffee shops don’t even offer decaf versions of their special menu. Which is just rude.

“ _Darling_ , you spoil me too much.”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Substituting coffee for cocoa is hardly taxing, Mr Eames.”

“It’s the thought that counts! You made me something personal.” Eames says, dramatically putting a hand over his heart. Arthur simple rolls his eyes again.

“Go to work, Mr Eames.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Arthur.” Eames leaves with a wink.

Arthur hopes he’s not blushing.

He’s definitely blushing.

* * *

The thing is, Arthur knows his obsession with making Eames a perfect drink is stressing him out. All he can think about all day is what else he could make, how he could make it better, just so that he can make something deserving of Eames’s appreciation. 

But he also knows it’s only a tactic to distract himself from the real problem here. Afterall, it’s easier to say “I have an unhealthy obsession of making perfect drinks for my customers” than “I want to ask you out but don’t have the guts to do it so I am weirdly courting you by making you hot cocoa and tea”.

“You’re not gonna react well if I tell you to just ask him out, are you?” Ariadne bumps him on the shoulder as she passes by with a tray of scones. Arthur scowls.

“‘Cause he’s flirting with you _really_ heavily, you know.” She continues.

“I told you, he flirts with everyone.” Arthur growls under his breath. He does not want to be reminded of the time he comes out from the back to see Eames leaning on the counter and winking at Nash, thank you very much.

(When Eames saw Arthur, he immediately straightens, his face brightening as he calls out, “Arthur!” like he’s the best surprise he has ever gotten. Arthur really doesn’t know what to make of that, so he just ignores it. That’s not the point, anyway.)

Ariadne just raises a judgmental eyebrow like she does every time they talk about this (or rather, Ariadne brings it up and Arthur grimaces and avoids the topic).

“You’d better stop the denial if you want to have _someone_ spend Christmas with you.” She says.

“I’ve got you, and Mal and Cobb and Pippa and James.” Arthur replied with faux innocence. Ariadne scowls and goes back to the kitchen with a humpth.

Arthur sighs as he continues scrubbing the tables. Eames didn’t come for his morning not-coffee this morning, and Arthur has been in a bad mood all day. He has been so dependent on Eames’s daily visits that he didn’t even consider there may be a day when he doesn’t get to see him. And he has no way of contacting Eames if he actually stops coming.

Arthur closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Eames didn’t come get a drink for a day, it’s no big deal. He’s working himself up for nothing.

Eames doesn’t come back for another two days. By the third day, Arthur is basically vibrating out of his skin from worry and caffeine.

“Now you regret not asking for his number, huh?” Ariadne says, not unkindly.

“Not helping, Ari.” Arthur grids out, grabbing his cup of coffee tighter against his chest. He was okay during the morning rush, the work giving his anxiety an outlet. Now, in the afternoon with almost no patrons, he feels so restless he keeps fidgeting, which is something he never does.

He hears the door to the shop opening, and hops up from his chair, jumping at the distraction. When he turns towards the door, however, he stops short and staggers into another chair.

“Eames.” Arthur breathes. He has this almost overwhelming urge to hug him. Or punch him.

“Darling.” Eames’s grin is just as radiant as ever, but his voice is… somewhat odd.

“Are you sick?” Arthur frowns as he recovers from the surprise and edge towards the counter.

“It was horrible, Arthur dear. The flu was out for blood, I feared I would never see your lovely face ever again!” Eames whines, pouting for good measure.

Arthur rolls his eyes, falling back to their usual banter easily. “Falling victim to the common flu, have we, Mr Eames?”

“It wasn’t just any common flu, darling, it was evil, I’m telling you.” Eames says, leaning on the counter as Arthur approaches.

Instead of going behind the counter, Arthur stops in front of Eames.

“So that’s why you haven’t come in a few days?” He asks quietly.

Eames sobers up immediately at his tone. Arthur loves this side of him, the version of Eames hidden under all his flamboyance that shows how considerate and intelligent Eames is, despite his flippant nature. 

“You have no idea how much I wanted to come, darling.” He answers just as quietly, almost a murmur. “I never wanted you to worry.”

It would’ve been easy for Arthur to deny it or wave it off with a teasing remark.

“Go on a date with me.” is what he says, instead.

He looks on, almost mesmerized, as a smile grows on Eames’s face.

“Oh, darling.” He whispers, leaning even closer. “I’d love to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally my idea was that Eames simply doesn't like coffee, but then I reckon if that's the case Arthur would have a way to make a kind of coffee he likes. So I had to make him unable to drink coffee, and I was too lazy to think of a proper reason for that, so.


	2. Eames

Eames has never been one to hesitate before a first date. No, scratch that, he doesn’t do “first dates”. Eames is the type to pull at bars, not woo in a cafe.

Yet that is precisely what he had been doing at _Penrose_ for the better part of the past month.

Eames shakes himself out of his daze from where he is staring at Arthur outside the coffee shop’s window, and push his way inside.

“Mr Eames.” Arthur gives him a polite tilt of the head, then grins. “Good to see you here. Though, you are quite early.”

“No rush, darling. Just wanted to see you.” Eames smiles back, his gaze fond as red rushes to Arthur’s cheeks.

“I’ll make you your drink.” Arthur says, fetching ingredients left and right.

“Let me guess, I’m not allowed to watch?” It is their traditionーArthur never lets Eames see what he is being served, just so he can see his most authentic reaction to the drinks.

“You know it.” Arthur calls as he disappears to the back. Eames smiles, something he seems unable to _not_ do, as he sits down to wait.

Arthur comes back after a few minutes, a lidded to-go cup in his hand. “Here you go.” He says. He looks… nervous? Eames frowns minutely but does not comment on it. Instead, he gives the drink a blow and takes a careful sip.

Eames gasps, his eyes widening at the drink in his hand.

“Shit, wow.” He says, and immediately takes another gulp of the drink, not caring about the heat.

“What is it?” Arthur’s eyes are almost as wide as Eames’s own as he leans forward eagerly.

“This is amazing, hell, Arthur.” He gushes, not able to find proper words to describe the sensations in his mouth. “Spiced cider... white chocolate?”

“Yeah. Last time you mentioned you like spiced cider, so I thought…”

“You created this just for me?” Eames’s head snaps up, genuinely flatters.

“It’s not like it is a revolutionary idea, Eames. A lot of people make these.”

“Yes, but I bet you made your own recipe and everything.” Eames raises a knowing eyebrow. After taking yet another gulp, he carefully removes the lid of his cup and pokes at his drink with a stirrer. 

Arthur shrugs. “Well, it is my job to-.”

“You used real vanilla?” Eames exclaims as he successfully pushes aside the foam on top of the cup to see tiny black specks in the drink.

“Vanilla pods and cinnamon sticks.” Arthur says, blushing.

“Real vanilla _and_ cinnamon? Darling, I’ve said it before, but you really do spoil me.”

Arthur shakes his head. “It’s not that special, really. We always use top-quality ingredients here, you know that.”

Eames smiles fondly at him. “That’s why everything you make are simply the best, sweetheart.”

“Eames, it’s really nothing. I’m just glad you like it.”

“But it’s amazing, dear. Have you tried it yourself?” Eames insists, leaning towards Arthur across the counter.

Arthur frowns. “Of course I have! I wouldn’t serve y- serve anyone anything without making sure it’s absolutely perfect.”

“I know that, Arthur dear.” Eames says soothingly, “I mean that, if you had tried it, you should know it is absolutely phenomenal, and I can’t believe you made it just for me.”

Arthur ducks his head, his ears burning. Eames reaches over to hold his head up by his chin.

“Thank you.” He whispers, looking Athur in the eye. Arthur dimples at him.

The two grin at each other sappily for a moment, until someone clears their throat loudly.

“Just leave early in you’re going to spend your time mooning over your beau, Arthur.” Ariadne says, raising a challenging eyebrow when Arthur turns to glare at her.

“There are no customers.” Eames thinks Arthur is attempting to sound miffed, but it comes out more like a whine.

Ariadne does not back down. “Exactly. I can handle this. Go on your date.”

Arthur turns to Eames for support, but Eames just tilts his head and flashes his eyelids in faux innocence. Arthur glares. Eames grins back.

“Go, Arthur. If I ever see that weird winking thing Eames just did again, I’d throw up.”

“But-”

“Arthur.”

Arthur sighs and turns to take off his apron. Ariadne turns to Eames and points a wooden spoon at him.

“You’d better be nice to him,” she hisses, “or I’ll put salt instead of sugar in all your cakes.”

Eames raises his hands in surrender, “I would never hurt Arthur on purpose.” He says, his tone serious.

Ariadne narrows her eyes and scrutinizes Eames for another moment, then, seemingly satisfied, she lowers her wooden spoon.

“Now take your date and go. I’m sick of your gooey shit.” She says haughtily. Eames grins at her thankfully as Arthur comes out from the back.

“Ready to go?” He asks, smoothing his hands down his shirt.

Eames spends a second (or a couple) looking appraisingly at his date’s outfit. It is his usual outfit, he just came off work after all, but that apron really does him no justice. Without it, Eames can see how Arthur’s shirt fits to his lithe but firm body, his pants tailored so perfectly Eames is sure the view would be amazing at the back.

“Ready when you are, darling.” He says at last.


End file.
